A/N: This isn't exactly a crossover, but just think what it'd be like if you mashed up Regular Show with Fallout. Basically, an alternate universe of Regular Show that's post-apocalyptic. I'm a huge fan of Rigby/Eileen so that's going to develop throughout the story, and Mordecai/Margaret too, because it would be weird to have one and not the other. This takes place in almost entirely in Rigby's POV, but POV can switch from time to time because I said so.

1

Have you ever woken up feeling like you took a spin in the dryer overnight? That's how I felt. Hot, sticky, nasty, and dizzy as hell. I sat up, groaning, and saw that the sun was just starting to light up the park. Everything that I could see was smudged around like someone did a bad job trying to erase it all.

I tried to wipe away some of the sweat from my arm, but something felt... I don't know, weird. Squinting, I took a closer look.

"What the... No, no, no, no..."

A bald spot. And that wasn't the only one.

Shaking, I threw off the pile of clothes I curled up under every night. My bed was covered in loose fur. "This is not happening," I hissed, under my breath. My blurry eyes darted to Mordecai, my best friend and roommate, and I could just barely make out his snoring form on the other side of the room.

Urgently, but as quietly as I could, I darted out of the room and into the bathroom. My limbs didn't seem to want to move, and it hurt to make them. As soon as I was hidden I locked the door and flipped on the light. Immediately I regretted it. My whole brain was stinging. I flipped the light back off and glanced into the mirror, my nightvision still fairly adequate.

Oh, crap, it's worse than I thought... I let out a miserable groan and sunk to the floor. I looked like I'd been assaulted by duct tape, and today was supposed to be some kind of party thing. (I think I heard Benson say it was the park's somethingth anniversary.) There was no way in hell I was going to let anyone see me like this.

"Okay, Rigby, think. You can, uhh... uh.." Thinking was really hard, too. Harder than usual, anyway. "...just cover it up. Yeah... I'll wear a jacket or something." Luckily, most of the bald patches were on my body and arms, and not so noticable anywhere else, though there were a couple on my head.

Still, I felt like death. I figured I was probably sick or something, but there was no way in hell I was going to let anyone see me like this. It'd probably just pass soon, anyway. I'd just have to cover up until the fur grew back. Probably.

2

I really didn't feel up to it, but Benson put us on snack bar duty. Mordecai was raising an eyebrow at me, which made me feel really stupid. I was barely visible behind sunglasses, a beanie, and a coat, which practically left just the lower parts of my legs exposed.

"What?!" I snapped, feeling even more heat come to my already hot face. For some reason, even though I was wrapped up, I still felt cold and hot at the same time.

Mordecai blinked. "Dude, what's with the outfit? It's not even that cold out, yet." Freaking blunt, as always.

"It's... it's nothing. Why do you care?" I stammered, unable to think up any kind of witty retort. Nothing unusual there.

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah, mm-hm. Fine," I muttered, avoiding his irritating stare.

"Then why are you shaking..?" he asked, frowning at me.

"It's cold," I said through grit teeth. I hadn't realized I was shivering.

"Hey, ladies," came the most grating, gutteral voice ever.

"Oh, god." I buried my face in one hand as our coworkers Mitch (a.k.a. Muscle Man, though any muscle the guy had was buried under a thick layer of green pudge) and High-Five Ghost (yeah, that's his name, I'm not even kidding) came wandering over.

"Woah. What's with that outfit?" asked Mitch, mirroring the expression Mordecai had given me moments ago.

"That's what I said, but he won't tell me anything," said the blue jay beside me. I grunted under my breath.

"Well, if you're tryin' to look like a loser, you sure are doin' a good job of it," said Mitch, cracking a smug grin. The corner of my mouth twitched a bit.

"Look, why don't you just mind your own business!" I snapped, as a flock of park visitors approached. Thanks to the stupid anniversary, the park was more packed than ever. It was going to be a long day.

"I don't know, man, you are acting pretty weird..." admitted Mordecai, walking over to the register. Today can't get any worse, I thought bitterly to myself.

"Um, can I have a blue snow-cone, please?"

"Hey, Eileen. Sure."

Somehow I choked on air.

"Hey, Mordecai. Hi, Rigby." She was staring right at me, of course. I didn't even have to look at her to know that much.

My stomach did a flop and I turned away, mumbling what I thought could pass as a greeting.

"Is Margaret here with you?" The desperation in Mordecai's voice was as obvious as the stale odor wafting from Muscle Man.

"No, she couldn't make it, but she'll be at the after party." God, just, please go away. I wasn't sure why, but, the thought of her seeing my patchy, messed-up fur made me feel even more nauseous than the thought anyone else seeing it. Maybe because she was a girl or something. I mean, it'd be bad enough if one of the guys saw it, but her..? "Are you cold, Rigby? I've got some mittens if you'd like to use them."

"You know who else is cold?" started Mitch.

"Uh.. your mom?" asked Eileen, as if she really wasn't sure. You could tell she hadn't been exposed to Muscle Man that much. I was kind of jealous. I reluctantly handed her the snow-cone and she moved aside to make room for the other customers in line. I felt like I was in quicksand. Everything was tiring.

The grin dissipated from Mitch's face. "Uhh... yeah. My mom!" And as the punchline was delivered, he and HFG high-fived, as always.

"Would you just shut up? Man, you're giving me the worst friggin' headache," I growled, holding my head. And because my luck was determined to get worse and eventually trainwreck, our boss Benson appeared.

"Hey, Muscle Man, High Five Ghost. I'm gonna have to ask you to postpone that -"

"No! You shut up, baby, and take off that stupid hat!" yelled Mitch, snatching at the beanie before I could tighten my hold on it.

"NO!" I cried, my voice cracking as the hat came off and with it, the glasses.

Quiet. All eyes were on me. A sick, crushing feeling that stuck to me like glue.

I stumbled back and fell against the counter. Sweat poured off me, my heart racing, and my mind was a frantic blank. Mordecai's mouth formed words, then Eileen's. Muscle Man's turned up in a sadistic smile. I couldn't hear anything.

"Just - just leave me alone!" I wailed, sprinting away as if they all had knives turned on me. I wasn't even sure where I was going, but next thing I knew, I was buried under the clothes in my bed again, covered in my own detached fur. I felt numb and stupid, and closed my eyes. Suddenly nothing mattered anymore.

3

(Mordecai's POV)

That evening was the after party. Unlike the anniversary event, which was public, this was just a small get-together for us workers, and since I invited them, Margaret and Eileen. Pops, Skips, Benson, Muscle Man, and High Five Ghost were already playing games (of both the board and video variety), talking, eating snacks, listening to those lame mainstream pop songs. It wasn't really much of a party, but it wasn't lame, either.

"I get that you're worried and all, but I really think he wants to be alone right now," I said. Eileen was staring up at me with worried eyes.

"But you're his best friend! Shouldn't you go see what's wrong with him?" she asked, fidgeting restlessly.

I sighed and made sure no one nearby was listening, before saying under my breath, "It's obvious that he's embarrassed about that shedding thing, but I don't know what to do about it. He probably just needs to relax. He was sleeping last time I checked on him."

Eileen frowned at the floor, and I felt kind of bad. For as rude as Rigby was to her most of the time, she was a pretty nice girl. And she wasn't exactly ugly or anything. Kind of cute in a mousey, librarian sort of way, if you were into that thing. Though, to be honest, Rigby wasn't nearly as asinine towards her now, after that camping trip we went on a while ago.

"Maybe if I just-" she tried again, raising her head with a bit of hope.

"No, trust me. That's a bad idea," I insisted, trying not to sound like a total tool. The doorbell rang before I could say anything else. "Yes!" I murmured under my breath, sliding over to the door in one smooth movement. I ran my hands through my feathers and opened the door.

"Hi, Mordecai." When Margaret smiled at me, it was like that feeling you get when you beat the secret ultra-hard boss in that one video game you poured hours and hours into. I leaned against the door frame and grinned at her.

"Hey. You look fantastic," I said, right before losing my footing and falling backwards. Oh, crap, I thought, a look of horror spreading across my face. Crap, crap, crap! When I looked stupid in front of Margaret, it was like getting a game over after you get that secret ultra-hard boss down to those last few hit points.

"You should be more careful," she laughed easily, taking hold of my arm to steady me.

"Uhhh, thanks," I mumbled stupidly, blushing. She laughed again and walked inside, releasing my arm. I mentally berated myself for being a clutz.

"There you are, Eileen," she said, walking over to the shorter girl. I pushed the door closed and followed.

"Oh, hi," she said back, as if she barely even registered that her friend was present. Without really saying much else, she idly made her way to the punch bowl.

"Is she okay? She seems kinda out of it," puzzled Margaret, sending me a concerned glance.

"She's just worried about Rigby," I sighed, slouching a little.

"I'd be worried, too, if I was going bald," snorted Mitch, who was only partially-immersed in the game of Strong Johns he and Pops were playing. Pops was struggling, even with the handicap all the way up.

"Ohh.. eh.. how do you jump again?" he asked, holding the controller upside-down.

"Jeez, Muscle Man, let it go already, I'm starting to get pissed," I snapped, balling my feathered hands into fists. I remembered Margaret was right next to me and mentally smacked myself in the face. "I, I mean it's not cool. Rigby has feelings, too."

Margaret smiled at me again, and I relaxed. Maybe the night wouldn't be so bad.

"I'll show you what happens when you laugh at me!" came a sudden miserable wail.

"What - ?"

Before I could even finish that sentence and turn completely around, something cold and wet crashed over me.

And by extension, Margaret, too.